Steel Cables
by Ice Wings of Paradise
Summary: Vincent Wright is your everyday historian - until S.H.I.E.L.D seek him out. Now questioning everything he knows and the threat of the end of the world on the horizon, can he withstand the pressure of working with the Avengers? Mild coarse language, no pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all!  
I wrote this because every time I look on the Avengers page for fanfiction, all I see are fics with girl OCs in which they are paired up with some guy, usually Loki or Steve. So, I decided to write one, but with the OC as a guy. No pairings, nothingbut plot, but if I feel a need for a love interest, I'll add one in. Sorry in advance if my writing style suits a girl more, I am very much a girl but I'll do my best to write masculine. **

**So, enjoy!**

_This is the worst place to spend a summer's day_, I thought as I leaned back on the cheap computer chair that was supplied to me at this job. I puffed my cheeks out and blew out some air, swinging side to side slightly. _I wish I was at home. _

I was in the small office that I required for my job as a museum curator in the small museum in New York. It was alright; I mostly dealt with American history, despite my major being in mythology. The job kind of sucked and the people that worked alongside me were assholes, but a job is a job, and I'm only here until I save up enough to travel to Norway or England or somewhere where my knowledge would be put to better use.

I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, wishing I could be in shorts and a t shirt than the neat suit that I was required to wear. The office had a distinct lack of air conditioning, and with the current heat wave that was sweeping the nation, it was like I was being baked. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sweat in my hair. There was a knock on the door and Clarence, the scary fifty-something year old receptionist appeared through a crack in the door.  
"You have a visitor," she rasped (she had a smoking problem).  
"I'm not in," I said lazily, my head hanging limp as I revolved slowly on the chair. "I'm sick, I'm out, I'm at lunch, anything."  
Clarence rolled her eyes at me. "He says it's high priority."  
"He can leave a memo, or call my cell, I don't know, the point is that I'm busy."  
"Too bad." Clarence sneered at me.  
I sighed heavily. "Come on Clarence, cut me some slack, and make something up, please? I'm really not in the mood, and you're gone aren't you?" I lifted my head up to an empty office.  
I sighed. "Shit." I rolled down my sleeves and attempted to straighten my desk, which was a wasted effort, considering the amount of open textbooks I have on it.

There was a knock on the door and before I could say come in, a tall man with an eyepatch strode in. He wore a thick leather cape despite the heat, and his glare was enough to send chills down my spine.  
I plastered a smile on my face. "Hi, pleasure to meet you, I'm—"  
"Are you or are you not Vincent Derek Wright?" the man demanded.  
I felt the urge to give him a dose of smartarse, but something warned me to just answer simply and quickly. "I am."  
"Do you or do you not possess an honours degree in History, specialising in ancient civilisations' mythology and beliefs?"  
I nodded. "Yeah."  
"Would you please come with me." He turned around and stalked out of the room. Even though he said please, there was authority in his voice, and I felt compelled to follow. I stood up. "Should I bring anything with me?" I asked.  
"No." I frowned slightly, but followed. Clarence raised an eyebrow at me as I demurely followed the stranger out of the staff area and out onto the busy street. There was a dark car parked on the curb, in which the stranger opened the door to. "Have a seat," he said monotonously. My frown deepened, but I complied and slipped into the car. The car was blissfully air conditioned, and the leather seats were amazing. The stranger shut the door and the car lurched into motion.

"So, what do you want from me?" I asked, hoping I didn't seem scared or angry. Sure, I was slightly worried, but what's the worse that could happen?"  
The stranger turned to me. "We require your expertise on a very delicate matter."  
"What expertise can I bring? I'm a historian." I couldn't help but let disbelief creep into my voice.  
The stranger fixed his one eye on me. "Something of global importance. I'm Director Nick Fury, and I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. We're a covert organisation dedicated to protecting the Earth, and we need someone who is very familiar with mythology on short notice. You were chosen."  
I nodded, mystified. "I still don't understand."  
"You'll be further briefed on the helicarrier." Fury faced the front, the conversation clearly over despite the questions bubbling in my mind.

The city slipped by and we drove onto an airport tarmac, where a strange aircraft sat, ready for take off. I had never seen an aircraft of that design ever before, and it raised more questions in my mind. Fury opened the door to the car, allowing a wave of heat to rush in the car. I followed suit and followed him towards the aircraft. The fans on the wings buffeted my hair, and I raised a hand to shield my eyes. "Just get on?" I shouted, Fury nodded. I shrugged and followed him up the ramp. I strapped myself in as the ramp closed and we took off.

I asked a few more questions to Fury, but he remained silent. I gave up and let my thoughts wander and did my nervous habit of rubbing my fingers through my hair repeatedly. The aircraft climbed through the air, and the only sounds were the engines roaring and the propellers spinning. I felt agitated; what did they want? Who was S.H.I.E.L.D? Were they good or were they bad?

We ascended higher and higher, and soon we levelled out and the pilot radioed in for a landing. That confused me. We can't land in air. Nevertheless, the aircraft settled, and Fury headed for the ramp; he didn't sit down for the entire trip, he just wore a look of melancholy. I quickly unclipped myself and stood next to him. The ramp opened up to what looked like a perfectly normal airstrip, save the jets and more of the same strange aircraft that I rode in on.  
"Where are we?" I asked Fury. He smirked. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D." I shot him a puzzled look as I walked towards the edge, to get my bearings.

"Holy shit," I whispered. We were flying. We were on a freaking flying ship. It's a giant flying ship! I felt my knees go weak. Is this thing even stable?  
"Mr Wright, if you would please," Fury called over the sound of the engines. I nodded fervently and half ran back to him. We walked into the main part of the ship, which looked like a city had sprouted out of an aircraft carrier.  
"So, what do you want of me?" I asked. I probably sounded annoying with all the questions, but I deserved to know.  
"Basically, we need a consultant," Fury told me. The hallways winded around, and I soon lost track of where we were.  
"A consultant? Regarding history, I assume," I said.  
Fury nodded. "Correct. S.H.I.E.L.D has been dealing with a few problems since the destruction of New York a few months ago, but I'm sure you've heard about that."  
I nodded. Who didn't know about the alien invasion that had destroyed New York, and the Avengers who defended us from it?  
"We've had visitors from another world, and we've noticed that they bear a strong resemblance to figures from ancient civilisation's beliefs, more specifically, the Norse." Fury looked at me. "We have no one in service that has the appropriate knowledge to… inform us about this civilisation, so we created a new position; Historical Consultant."  
"And that's me," I guessed.  
"Correct. You were chosen. Feel privileged."  
"Alright." I couldn't say I did.

We walked out of a corridor to what was without a doubt the bridge of the flying ship. People intensely working on computer screens, all wearing uniforms. They didn't notice my presence, but they certainly acknowledged Fury's.  
"So, basically you brought me here for a job offer," I summarised.  
"Not really. It's a consulting job. You will be greatly rewarded for your co operation," Fury added.  
I thought for a moment. Hell, I didn't like my job. That museum was boring. "Alright, I'm in."  
Fury smiled without humour. "Welcome aboard."

"Nope," I said simply.  
Fury's assistant, Agent Coulson, sighed wearily. "Please, Mr Wright—"  
"Vincent," I amended. "Or Vince or Vin." I laced my fingers together behind my head.  
"Vincent, if you are working for S.H.I.E.L.D, you must wear the uniform. It's a requirement."  
"Well, I'm under the impression that I'm not really hired by S.H.I.E.L.D, so I don't have to wear the uniform."  
Agent Coulson was sent to settle my employment issues. Basically h e was trying to bribe me into a uniform, and I don't do uniforms. He already tried to get me to sign some documents without my reading of it, and an amendment was currently being printed and approved. What can I say? I'm stubborn.  
"Please, Vincent, it makes things so much easier."  
"You're not wearing a uniform," I noted.  
"That's because I'm an agent, I don't require one."  
"But that Agent Hill or something is," I pointed out.  
Coulson paused; I had him. I smiled triumphantly as he sighed. "Fine, no uniform. Just please, look presentable."  
I smirked. "I always do. Now, what shall be my compensation for working here?"  
"We will give you a reference guaranteed to get you into any museum in the world, and will pay for any immigration you choose to do," Coulson said.  
I froze. Wow. That's my dream completely achievable, and all I have to do is just know about my favourite things. This is a dream come true.  
"Deal," I said.

Agent Coulson smiled. "I had a feeling that you would agree to that. Now, let me show you to where you shall work. We're putting you in a laboratory, as we have no facilities to place you in at this time."  
That's a lie, I thought as I stood up and followed Coulson. I bet they just want me somewhere they can easily keep an eye on me.  
"Fury didn't tell you who you will be working with, did he?" Coulson asked over his shoulder.  
I shook my head, which caused him to look sympathetically at me. "You poor thing."  
"Hey, I'm pretty sure I can handle anything you guys can throw at me," I said, smiling. This caused Coulson to bite his lip to hold back some laughter. He turned back in front of him. I couldn't help but frown. What am I getting myself into?

We walked into a brightly lit room that contained a desk covered in books, tables littered with science looking things and a scrawny man that stared intensely at a hologram screen thing. He had salt and pepper hair and wore thin glasses and a baggy shirt and pants.  
"Mr Banner," Coulson said, causing the man to look up. His eyes flickered over to me, an analytical glint in his eyes. "This is Vincent Wright. He is the Historical Consultant for the Avengers, and he shall be working in here with you."  
I turned to stare incredulously at Coulson. "What, I'm consulting the Avengers? I thought I was working for S.H.I.E.L.D!"  
"The Avengers are part of S.H.I.E.L.D," Dr Banner said. He walked up and shook my hand. "Bruce Banner."  
"Vincent Wright," I said, smiling. I had no idea who this guy is, but he seemed like a good guy.  
"So, uh, you're the Historical Consultant, I didn't know they had those," Banner said, wringing his hands.  
I shrugged. "Neither did I, just got the job."  
"Well, you'll have a good time here, everyone is pretty easy to stand, except—"  
"Ah, well if it isn't Zombie Agent," a voice announced at none other than Tony Stark as he entered the room. He patted Coulson on the shoulder. "Please don't eat my brains, I need them to think."  
"If you keep on calling me Zombie Agent, I will," Coulson threatened.  
Stark noticed me. "Well, if it isn't the new Historical Consultant for the Avengers. I used to be a consultant, then they realised that I was too awesome to just consult."  
"I'm not gonna ask why you knew about this," Coulson sighed.  
"It's pretty obvious; Tony's been snooping again through the S.H.I.E.L.D hard drive," Banner said.  
Stark snapped his fingers and pointed his fingers at Banner. "Boom, headshot." He turned back to me. "I'm sure you know who I am," he smiled.  
I shrugged. "Who doesn't?" I held my hand out. "Vincent Wright, nice to meet you."  
Stark held his hands up. "Sorry, I don't do handshakes. Or touching. Unless you've earned it. Or you're a girl."  
I let my hand drop. "Alright then."

"Oh, random thought," Stark announced. "Fury wanted me to tell you that it's time to show the kid the secret package, so if you can drag your moaning corpse and present company to Security Room Seventeen."  
I bristled. "Kid?" I'm twenty five, for god's sake.  
Coulson nodded. "Understood." He turned to me. "Do you like Norse mythology?" he asked me.  
"It's one of my favourites," I admitted.  
"Well, get ready to have your mind blown," Coulson said.  
Stark laughed. "Ah, this is going to be funny."

**Thanks for reading! If you have any questions/queries/statements/death sentences/marriage proposals, feel free to drop me a line. I really appreciate it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, reviews make me feel so special. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, past and future. Hope you enjoy this chapter, because I enjoyed writing it.**

I crossed my arms as I trailed behind Stark, Banner and Coulson, as Stark babbled on and on about things I didn't understand and making fun of pretty much everyone. Stark annoyed me. He was the type of person that had a serious god complex, and no one deserves to have one, unless you actually were a god.  
From what I could glean from their conversation, Coulson had to fake his death in order for something to happen, and Stark wasn't very happy with that. I kept silent; I certainly had nothing to contribute to this.  
Banner dropped behind slightly and walked next to me. "Well, that's Tony Stark," he said.  
I snorted. "He's a dick."  
Banner laughed. "He grows on you, believe me. I didn't like him at first too, but then he showed his true colours and he's actually an intelligent and caring person."  
"Ha, that's funny," I said sarcastically.

Our entourage stopped in front of a steel door marked XVII. Stark turned to me. "Get ready," he said, sniggering. I rolled my eyes at him as Coulson pressed a few buttons on a control panel, opening the door. The room contained two men; one with short, blonde hair wearing neat yet old clothes and tall man, also blonde haired, but wearing strange clothes adorned with metal. His hair was long and wavy, and more golden than the other. They turned to us as we entered.  
"Steve, Thor, this is Vincent Wright. He is our Historical Consultant," Coulson introduced.  
The man with the short hair strode forward. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Steve Rogers."  
I grinned as I shook his hand firmly. "Captain America, I assume. I did a report on your exploits during my first year of university."  
Steve grinned, obviously flattered. "Really?"  
"Oh, you're making him blush," Stark said sarcastically. I resisted the urge roll my eyes.  
"Vincent," Coulson said, drawing my attention. "Meet Thor Odinson, god of thunder."  
I laughed. "No way."  
Thor stepped forward. "It is true mortal, I am Thor."  
"No you're not," I smiled at him. "He's not real. You're obviously an actor." _Is this some kind of practical joke?_  
"If I can, I will prove to you that I am indeed Thor," 'Thor' insisted.  
I nodded. "Alright then, I'll ask a few questions. If you get them right, I will believe you."  
'Thor' looked determined. "Begin."

I thought for a moment. "Okay, what is this realm called to you?"  
"Midgard," Thor said instantly.  
_That was an easy one,_ I thought. "What realm are you from?"  
"Asgard," Thor looked pretty confident.  
_That was easy too._ "What is your race called?"  
"We are called Asgardians here, but we are truly called aesir." Thor looked triumphant as I frowned.  
_Damn, he got that one. _"What is a rough translation of Mjolnir?"  
Thor thought for a moment. "In your tongue, I believe it is mauler, or breaker."  
_Holy crap, how did he get that one? _"Who is Tyr?"  
"He is an aesir on Asgard, and he tends to Fenrir, the giant wolf."

_Holy shit, he is Thor! _My hands crept to my mouth as I gasped. "Oh my god. You are Thor. Youactually are Thor. How can you be Thor? Holy shit, you're him."  
Thor laughed heartily. "I see I have passed your test. It is pleasing to meet someone that knows so much about my home."  
I was going into shock. "How is it possible? How can you be real?" I rubbed my fingers through my hair.  
"Your myths were based partially on fact," Thor smiled at me. Holy shit, the god of thunder smiled at me! "My people interacted constantly with your people, and our exploits together were remembered."  
"Ha, isn't that cute, he's fangirling," Stark said to Banner.  
Annoyance flicked within me. "Shut up, Stark."  
"Oh wow, he's got sass," Stark said sarcastically. I had to stop myself from walking over and punching him in the face.

Thor laughed. "Come, my friends, let us congregate in another area and enjoy what your kind call 'brunch'."  
"I'll send Natasha and Clint over, I'm sure they'll want to meet the new guy. They'll explain the situation." Coulson raised a hand to his ear and walked out of the room, muttering.  
"Do you like coffee?" Stark asked me, his dark eyes boring into mine.  
I shrugged. "Haven't tried it."  
Stark looked like I had slapped him on the face. "What," he whispered dramatically. "How can you have not tried coffee?"  
"I never saw the attraction," I admitted. I've had a lot of heat regarding this, so it wasn't new.  
Stark strung an arm around my shoulder. "Kid, I'm gonna have to show you heaven, which is in the form of a coffee bean."  
"The man of iron does not lie," Thor said gravely.  
I strongly resisted the urge to laugh hysterically. _I have Tony Stark offering to give me coffee, with Thor insisting, _I thought. _Am I dreaming?_

I hesitantly raised the coffee cup to my lips as Stark, Thor, Steve and Bruce stared intensely at me. I took a small sip, and pulled a face. "It's disgusting!"  
"More sugar!" Thor bellowed, throwing sugar cubes into my cup.  
"No, more milk!" Stark splashed some milk into the cup, getting some on my hands. I wiped it away on my shirt. I had noticed the lack of formalities amongst the four, so I had removed my tie and undone the top button on my dark blue business shirt. I felt more comfortable and more relaxed around these people than before.  
I took another sip. "Nah, I don't like it." I put the cup down and shrugged. "Sorry."  
Stark looked like I personally offended him. "Coffee is the nectar of the gods."  
"I agree," Thor said. "As a god, I can testify to the man of iron's claim."  
"Give him a break," Steve backed me up. "Everyone is allowed to like or dislike things, and we shouldn't judge them for it."  
I gestured to Steve. "See? Not a big deal."  
Stark huffed. "You must lack a sense of taste or something. There's no logical excuse to dislike coffee."  
As I prepared to launch into what looked like a heated argument, two people walked into the room. One was a middle aged man, with tan skin and dark blonde hair with an intense look in his eyes, and a woman with short curly hair that was an intense red.  
I felt my jaw slacken. _Wow._ She looked great. But she had a look of dark intensity, and I felt myself thinking, _don't mess around with her._ She looked like a tiger: beautiful, but very dangerous.  
The woman slid into a seat next to me and the man across. "You must be Vincent Wright," the woman smiled, but the warmth didn't reach her eyes. She offered her hand. "Natasha Romanoff."  
I cleared my throat as I grasped her hand in a shake. It was icy cold. "Nice to meet you. I'm—"  
"The Historical Consultant, we know," the man interrupted. He nodded at me. "Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye. She's Black Widow."  
_That's an appropriate name, _I thought as I nodded back. _She definitely looks like a man eater.  
_"You probably know more about my job than me," I joked. "They practically pulled me out of my old job." I glanced at Steve. "They had a good section on you."  
As Steve bumbled around being flattered, Natasha said "You're here to supply intel about Thor's people to us in detail. S.H.I.E.L.D has felt the need for some background information,in order to aid us in future threats."  
"Especially with what's going on now," Bruce added darkly, drinking from his cup.

I grinned. "Well, I'm here to help. What do you need to know?"  
"Have you heard of Sanngrior?"  
"Sanngrior?" I thought. "Yeah, she's one of the Valkyries."  
"Valkyries?" Steve frowned at me. "This isn't a HYDRA thing, isn't it?"  
"No, HYDRA based a lot of their terms on Norse mythology, claiming it to be true. Turns out they were right." I glanced at Thor. "The Valkyries were warrior maidens, with blonde hair and blue eyes and rode white horses. When they rode, they were believed to cause the Northern Lights. Thor, is that true?"  
Thor nodded. "They caused the start of the Northern Lights, and they have occurred ever since."  
"Okay, so that part is true. They dictated who won and lost battles, and carried the valiant dead to Valhalla, a place where they became einherjar, warriors who prepare for Ragnarok."

Whilst the others looked confused, I noticed that Thor winced slightly. "What's Ragnarok?" Stark asked, visibly curious.  
"I could go on for ages about it, but basically, the end of the world." I didn't feel like explaining the entire story; I go into detail and tangents. "The forces of good and evil fight and pretty much fizzle out." To demonstrate, I put my hands into fists and bumped them and moved them away, opening them. "After that there's a new world."  
"Like a rebirth," Natasha said.  
I nodded. "Exactly. But back on Valkyries. They're servants of Odin. Does Odin exist?" I asked Thor.  
Thor nodded proudly. "The Allfather exists, and I am blessed to be his son."  
I couldn't help but grin. "That is so cool. So why do you need to know about Sanngrior?"  
Stark pulled out a transparent rectangle and tapped a few times on it. The rectangle blinked to life and after a few more taps, produced a hologram. It looked like security footage.

The footage showed two men, obviously drunk, fighting in a deserted alleyway. I watched in horror as one of the men pulled out a knife, and attempted to stab the other whilst he desperately fought back. It was a vain attempt; the man with the knife plunged it into the others stomach before running away. The man collapsed on the ground with a cry.  
I raised my hand to my mouth in shock. I glanced at the others; they grimly stared at the hologram, but didn't seem bothered with the man's attempted murder.  
We watched as the man slowly died in front of us. Just as I thought I couldn't handle any more, a woman literally blinked into existence next to the man. The footage was grainy, but I could see her silvery armour glisten within the limited light. The armour was Norse – I instantly recognised it.  
The woman knelt next to the man. "No, I don't want to die!" he cried weakly.  
The woman chuckled, but it seemed cold. "No, brave one. You shall not die. You are destined to enter the service of Sanngrior, where you shall fight valiantly for a better world, free from the gods. You shall be a hero."  
"W-who are you? What do you want?" the man gurgled, mouth full of blood.  
"I am Sanngrior herself, and I want to change the world." The woman stood up. She spoke something in a language that didn't seem Norse, and they both vanished.

Stark solemnly turned off the hologram. "That's why we want to know."  
I rubbed my chin, deep in thought. _So evidently Valkyries exist. But why do I get the feeling that Sanngrior wasn't speaking about Valhalla?  
_"This occurred around two weeks ago," Natasha said. "S.H.I.E.L.D immediately confiscated any copies of the footage and decided that this matter was of high importance."  
_So that's why they brought me here, _I thought. _To help figure this out. _"Thor, can you tell me anything about Sanngrior that occurred recently?" I asked.  
"About one thousand of Midgard's years ago, Sanngrior was dismissed from the Valkyries," Thor said hesitantly. "She was guilty of causing death upon Midgard shamelessly, with no regard to the judging of the valiant. She brought no souls to Valhalla. She was banished, and as she was pushed into the Bifrost, she swore revenge."  
"I've never heard of any dismissing of Valkyries," I said.  
"Very few were privy to the matter, I was only informed not long ago by Father," Thor admitted.  
"Well, this Sanngrior seems like a bad type," Bruce summed up.  
"Man of anger, you put it lightly," Thor said. "But thankfully, the man of knowledge will assist us in the apprehension of this rogue shieldmaiden."  
I felt flattered. _Man of knowledge? Wow._

"So, Vincent, what are your thoughts on this?" Steve asked me.  
I looked gravely at all six of them. "From what I've just heard and seen, it seems like Sanngrior is assembling an army, and is most likely going to take over the Earth."

**Thank you so much for reading! I had a blast writing this. Since I am on holidays, I may update often, depending on my motivation. **

**Most of that stuff about the Valkyries was straight from my mind. I love mythology. Especially Norse, Greek and Egyptian.**

**Again, if you have any questions/queries/statements/recommendations/dance moves/marriage proposals/dramatic speeches, leave a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, here's chapter 3.**

**None of my page breaks worked for the past two chapters. That's annoying. Sorry about that.**

**Hopefully everyone seems in character. Tony is a challenge for me, whilst people like Steve and Bruce come to me naturally. Funny, eh?**

**Also converted to third person to make Vincent seem manlier. To me, at least.**

**But anyway, let's continue.**

The room was eerily silent, until Stark said declared, "Well, on that happy note, let's get ready." The room remained silent until Bruce asked, "Get ready for what?"  
Stark looked at him strangely. "To stop this Sanngrior, duh. I don't like it when evil beings from mythology attempt to destroy my stuff." He glanced at Thor. "Uh, no offence, big guy."  
"I've taken none, man of iron." Thor nodded.  
"Director Fury would appreciate receiving this newfound knowledge," Barton said solemnly.  
Vincent nodded. "I'll write down everything I know about this, along with anything I find."  
"Isn't he a big boy," Stark commented.  
Vincent turned to him. "Shut up, Stark."  
Stark grinned. "You know Vincent, I think I'm gonna like you."  
Vincent closed his eyes, putting a valiant attempt into not rolling his eyes. He stood up. "Uh, where is the lab? I'd like to get start getting this stuff down, while it's fresh on my mind."  
"I'll take you there; I wanted to finish my experiment anyway." Bruce stood up.  
"Wait, Vincey here is bunking up with us?" Stark demanded.  
Vincent shrugged, smirking slightly. "Don't blame me, blame SHIELD."  
Stark pointed at him, scowling intensely. "Don't touch any of my stuff."  
"I'll try to resist." Bruce and Vincent walked out, and after around four seconds Stark bounded up next to them, chest reactor glowing brightly under his ACDC shirt. "No offence kid, but I don't trust you just yet, and you look like the nosy type."  
"None taken," Vincent said sarcastically.

The lab was not too far, and soon they arrived. Vincent went over to the desk he saw before; all the textbooks from his office in New York were there, placed exactly as he left them. Vincent couldn't help but grin. He noticed his square, black rimmed glasses sitting on a textbook and quickly put them on. The world clicked into better focus.  
Vincent pulled out a notepad and pen and started to write. "Uh, you know Vincey, we have these things called computers, you can use that instead," Stark pointed out from across the room. He was helping Bruce continue the experiment that Vincent walked in on before, but Bruce was mostly swatting him away.  
"I'm just getting the gist of it on paper, then I'll type it out." Vincent frowned and tapped his pen on the paper, attempting to recall everything that was said. After a few moment, he began swiftly penning down notes in flowing handwriting.  
Tony decided to stop annoying Bruce, and annoy Vincent. "You know," he said, waltzing over, "You're a smart kid. Why didn't you go into physics?"  
"Because I'm crap at physics." Vincent replied curtly.  
"No one is crap at physics, there are people who understand physics, and there are people who are scared of formulas." Tony sat casually on the table, causing Vincent to shuffle over. He laughed once. "You haven't seen me."  
The room descended into silence, save for the sound of Vincent's pen and the quiet clinking of metal from Bruce.

Vincent trudged wearily into the small room that SHIELD had supplied to him, sighing. His head throbbed – another of his headaches- and his hand was cramped from all the writing. As he pushed the door open, he glanced around; minimum furniture, all steel grey or white. He noticed that SHIELD had once again did the unsettling action of placing all his things exactly as he left them in his apartment. Unfortunately, they didn't clean up – it was a mess. Vincent wasn't sure how he felt about some people going through his property, but as he attempted to reconcile it in his head, it throbbed warningly. He groaned and shuffled to his bed before falling upon it. The bed squealed and the sheets smelt of disinfectant. _I prefer my apartment, _Vincent thought sadly. He groaned again as he realised that he paid the rent for his apartment two days ago, and that he wasn't even going to be living in it for god knows how long.

Vincent swiped the glasses off his face and threw them carelessly onto the white bedside table that he vaguely recognised being there. He only needed them for reading, or when he got one of his headaches. He moved to remove his tie, but it was missing. He realised that he left it in the lad. He figured Tony was going to hold it for ransom, or something along those lines. _And I liked that tie_, Vincent thought mournfully.

After some minutes just lying on the bed, Vincent's headache became too much, so he decided to rummage around the carefully placed mess for some aspirin. He looked in any places he figured SHIELD would place medication; nothing. Vincent moaned and massaged his temples. He made another half-hearted attempt, nothing. Why would SHIELD torture him like this?  
Showering seemed like a good idea, so Vincent decided to inspect the bathroom. It was actually pretty good. They had the essentials: towels, sink, toilet, shower, they even had a bath. Vincent quickly undressed and turned on the shower, nice and hot. He sighed and let the steam ease the throbbing.

Vincent lost count of time, but after a while he clambered out, dried himself off and walked into the main room. He pushed his wet hair out of his face as he caught a glimpse of the dark shadows under his hazel eyes in the mirror. The heat in New York was stifling, and had prevented him from sleeping for at least four nights.  
He changed into a shirt and pyjama pants and settled into a comfortable position on the bed. The room was blissfully cool, and his headache was almost completely gone. Vincent swiftly fell asleep on top of the bed, not even bothering to get under the sheets.

He woke up to what sounded alarms shrieking from every possible place. He shouted and rolled off the bed, which he had somehow circumnavigated during the night. He looked around quickly, expecting the helicarrier to be tumbling out of the sky, or some other disaster, but the clock on the wall read 7 o'clock. _Was that the wake up alarm? _He thought weakly as he crawled over to a pile of clothes. He pulled out the red t shirt he was certain was clean, and the jeans he wasn't so much. He got changed, grabbed his glasses and walked out into Tony, who was rubbing his eyes tiredly. Vincent figured he hit the liquor sometime after he left.  
"You look lovely," he remarked dryly as he fell into step next to him.  
"Aren't you just the comedian," Tony grumbled as he rubbed his temples. "For the love of baby Jesus, keep your mouth shut, kid."  
Vincent smirked. He noticed that when Tony was annoyed, he called him kid. "The rooms here are nice," he commented. "I've stayed in a lot worse for more expensive." Tony glanced incredulously at him. He shrugged. "Being a student is tough."

Steve appeared in a doorway, demurely dressed. "Hey Cap," Vincent smiled as he came up to them.  
"You have that report finished?" Steve asked.  
Vincent blinked. _He doesn't mess around, does he? _"Mostly, it just needs typing up and I'll be good to send it to Fury."  
Steve nodded. "You're a good soldier."  
Vincent laughed nervously. "Hey, I'm no soldier, I'm just an academic."  
"If you're with us, you're good enough to be a soldier to me." Steve walked ahead, leaving Vincent and Tony dumbfounded in his wake.  
"I'm not sure how I feel about that," Vincent admitted.  
Tony patted his shoulder. "I think he was trying to compliment, in his own dorky way."

Vincent tapped his foot lightly to the loud beat that was being pumped around the lab as he squinted at a holographic screen as he fingers darted around the holographic keyboard. He was nearly finished with his report – he be done if he and Tony hadn't started arguing about music to play. They had finally settled on a band they both agreed on, and were working in relative peace.  
_He's actually not that bad, _Vincent though, glancing at Tony, who was making some sort of robot. _I guess I was just prejudiced. _Tony threw a metal bit carelessly over his shoulder and it hit Vincent on the head. _Still annoys me though._  
Bruce walked in and winced at the high volume. Vincent looked up from his work. "Hey Bruce!" he shouted over the music. Tony grinned.  
"How loud do you want this music?" he roared. Tony and Vincent shrugged in sync. Bruce rolled his eyes as he clamped his hands over his ears. "We're having a meeting, so come over," he yelled.  
Vincent frowned as his fingers whirred manically around the keyboard. "And… done. Beat you, Tony!" he cried to Tony. Tony muttered under his breath and the music ceased. Bruce sighed in relief. "Actually, Vinny, I finished ten minutes ago, I was just making it pretty." Tony moved to reveal the skeletal robot, with a goofy face and badly made glasses. It waved weakly at Vincent. "Look, it's you!"

Vincent stared in disbelief at the robot whilst Tony asked Bruce, "In the usual spot?"  
"On the bridge. It's serious," Bruce said gravely.  
Tony shrugged, and turned off the robot. Vincent snapped back to life, and they set off.

The bridge was a hub of activity – darkly dressed men and women worked tirelessly around monitors in a jumble of noise. Above it all, Fury stood proudly, surveying his workers and the sky. Sitting calmly behind him were the Avengers sans Tony and Bruce. They were all carefully reading documents and quietly discussing them. Vincent realised with a start that they were the report he typed up, not even five minutes ago. _SHIELD works fast_, he thought dryly.

"Gentlemen," Fury had noticed them, and gestured to the table. Tony confidently strode over and pulled out a chair and slid forward, Bruce crept in behind and slid into a chair. Vincent awkwardly clambered into one, feeling like the odd man out. Everyone at that table besides him were heroes, and dangerous to boot. How could he ever work with people like them?  
"We've read your report," Fury stated, "and the facts are most disturbing." Vincent nearly asked him how he got that report, but he decided not to say anything. "This Sanngrior is against everything SHIELD stands for, and she must be stopped."  
"Question is, how do we stop someone who has time/space teleporting abilities?" Bruce said. "It seems almost impossible."  
"Not to mention against physics," Tony added.  
"We're currently simulating several adherence schemes that may prevail, but it will take time," Natasha said. "However, there is another option."  
"No, I won't allow it." Steve said firmly.  
"Rogers, you know that if we do it, it will be the quickest way to catch her," Clint argued.  
"I won't allow it! I'm the leader of this team, and I forbid that idea."  
_Captain seems really stressed about this idea, _Vincent thought. _He looks almost… horrified by it._

"Well, I think we should let everyone know what the idea is, you know, like a team," Tony said pointedly.  
"It is only fair that he would know," Thor declared.  
"Why do I get a feeling that this will lead to something bad?" Bruce moaned quietly.  
"What's the idea?" Vincent asked.  
Clint sighed, and turned to him. "You know how Sanngrior appears when people are dying, usually by a fight, right?"  
"Of course," Vincent frowned.  
"Well, we thought of an idea that will quickly and effectively deceive her into appearing right into our hands. Essentially—"  
Natasha pulled a knife out of her sleeve. "Essentially, we kill you."


End file.
